


Old Habits Die Hard

by H_E_A_R_T_H



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Drug Use, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mention of Valentino, Seriously though idk what this is, hinting at suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-10 03:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21460849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_E_A_R_T_H/pseuds/H_E_A_R_T_H
Summary: This started as a character study but ended up being a one shot of how Angel met Charlie and Vaggie.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Old Habits Die Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I’m not sure what it is this took me like ten minutes.

I don’t remember how I died. I remember bits and pieces, though they don’t mean squat. Getting up in a haze at three in the afternoon and hauling myself to a party I was invited to by someone. It never mattered who, it was all the same group of people celebrating nothing except being alive. It was all the same.

I don’t remember what was going through my head when I took that angel dust. By then I was already well off with alcohol. I didn’t need that junk. But boy, did I crave the shit. A part of me thinks I had to have known it was too much. I’ve grown up knowing drugs like normal kids knew their alphabet. But again, I was young and in a rush, maybe I just didn’t notice. Slim chance.

I remember jack shit after that. It could have taken long, maybe not so much, but eventually I’m plunged into hell. Falling from the sky screaming my lungs out and shit. It wasn’t pretty. 

The whole being a spider thing didn’t really phase me either. It happens, I adjusted. I worked with it.

Didn’t take me long to become a porn star. Prostitution was first base, then stripping, and I made my way to third. Sometimes I really did love my job, rolling in money and sex and _men_. It was great.

The dark side was that pimp of mine. God he sucked. Valentino was a whole case and a half, let me tell you. 

He gave me good work, don’t get me wrong. Helped me get started and was pretty supportive during the whole ordeal. The thing is, becoming a porn star at the cost of my voice and self-expression is a whole other matter. I was constantly lectured when I was caught on the news for petty turf wars and fights, as if no one else was doing this. It would be a different matter if he cared about me, but he didn’t. The only thing Valentino cared about was that a porn star was out making a real reputation for themselves. Not the ditzy, no brained reputation, but a valuable one.

I learned quickly to put Valentino's lectures at the back of my head. They happened constantly, like an irritating fucking wake up alarm. The man haunted my dreams, let me tell you.

Years and years of this I thugged it out. I took his words and made my dent in hell. That is, until Charlie barrelled into my life, dragging along sunshine and rainbows and all that happy bullshit. 

That particular night I had it rough. Valentino was on the same shit, angry at me for existing. That’s how I found myself on the streets for a night. For disciplinary reasons, Valentino's come to claim. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if Charlie has some sort of fucking superpower. The way her eyes focused on me like tunnel vision, she’s gotta be something special. I remember how excited she’d been as she raced over, Vaggie not far behind, arms crossed and expression as irritated as ever.

“Hello there!” Her voice dripped with excitement, eyes practically stars as she stuck out her hand to me. “I’m Charlie! It so nice to meet you!”

I remember pausing, but I don’t decline her kindness. “A pleasure.” I settled with, shuffling to get comfortable against the brick wall.

“How would you like to start along the path of redemption?” The way she spoke reminded me of those old religious preachers from back in the day. Full of shit, but so stuffed they’re basically delirious at that point.

“Fuck yeah,” I said jokingly, “As long as it’s got a bed and some good food, I’m sold.”

She hopped in place excitedly. “Then its a deal!” Charlie stated in a sing-song voice. The girl behind her sighed heavily, but surprisingly didn’t interject.

That’s how I found myself dragged into the Happy Hotel. It was pretty shitty when I got there, run down and dusty. It must have been abandoned or something before Charlie got her hands on it.

It took a couple of days before I actually realized what this whole thing was. Redemption wasn’t some religious bullshit I’d originally thought, it was the process of making me into a better person. A doozy, but... not exactly something I'm against. The cycle of existing and getting yelled at for it was exhausting. Maybe heaven wouldn't have that, maybe it'd have something new for a change. 

So I stayed sober and out of trouble for a week. That was the longest I could handle until I found myself running into the streets, depressed and hallucinating, looking for any sorry loser who’d want their dick sucked for some drugs. And I kept doing it until I’d eventually found myself on the news.

Of course, that didn’t mean I’d stopped. Old habits die hard, quite literally. Sometimes when I lay awake in the bed gifted to me by the generosity of dear Charlie, I wonder if my addiction was this bad back when I was alive and shit. Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt, does it?


End file.
